


steel to my trembling lips

by deviont



Series: it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, mind the tags this ones kinda Not Good, past abusive relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 05:38:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11350998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviont/pseuds/deviont
Summary: how did the night ever get like this?





	steel to my trembling lips

**Author's Note:**

> heyo!!! here again with more Alex Suffers™. be warned this doesnt really work as a standalone and will make much more sense if you read at least the first part but hey im just some dude. anyway i read through this once kind of but let me know if theres any mistakes and as always, enjoy!

The thing is, Alex knew he wasn’t supposed to. And maybe that’s what compelled him to all the more. Because Thomas recognized that Alex was trying, he tried so damn hard, trying to be better. To go to Thomas or text his therapist or even just wait it out whenever he got an impulse. To ask Thomas if he was angry at him, or if he still loved him, so Thomas could reassure him and there was no need for Alex to have a self-destructive breakdown because his boyfriend hated him, because he didn’t.

Thomas knew Alex tried hard, so Thomas did, too. Tried to keep being understanding, gentle with Alex, even when he was splitting every ten minutes, helping Alex keep himself from getting swept up in the violent swings from love to hate. Listened to Alex vent and told him it was okay, that he didn’t have to apologize for what he felt, that nothing Alex could say would ever make Thomas stop loving him. It was difficult, of course, but they loved each other and that love was far too good to simply give up on. The good outweighed the bad, by far.

Of course, that didn’t mean that Alex’s relapses or bad days hurt them both any less.

♪ ♪ ♪

Everything was muffled. Alex thought maybe there was some noise outside of his cocoon, but it was far too faint and distant for him to make any sense of it. The boy thought maybe he could figure out what it was if he got up, but scrapped that idea immediately. He was warm and comfortable and besides, he didn’t think he would even be able to stand, much less walk to investigate the source of the noise. No, it was much better for him to just stay right here. He snuggled deeper into his blankets, happy with his decision. Underneath his sheets and comforter, nothing could reach him. He was in safe, comforting darkness, and while he’d much prefer to curl up in a smaller space, maybe underneath Thomas’ desk, he was still confined.

He clutched the half empty bottle to his chest, the second one he’d had tonight, and closed his eyes. If he held the bottle to his lips, didn’t let the liquid touch, he could almost recreate the feeling of cool steel pressed to his lips from that night. The night he fucked everything up again, even more so than he usually did.

_“How’s it feel, baby? You comfy?” Alex knew better than to respond, knew that sickly sweet tone and he knew what it meant. Alex was in big trouble this time. A hand caressed his cheek and he flinched. John laughed, the sound of it sending shivers down Alex’s spine. “Oh, you know what we’re here for, don’t you?” The chilled metal brushed along his cheekbone, the cold contrasting with the previous warmth of John’s hand and making him shiver. A single tear, one that Alex tried valiantly to stop, rolled down his cheek as the metal moved to push against his temple._

_“I could do it, Alex. It’d be just like breaking a toy. There are a million replacements, better ones. I wouldn’t feel a thing, and neither would anyone else.” John cocked the gun, and Alex felt himself go frighteningly empty. Like the action punctured him somewhere and let every feeling pour out. John, his Jack, the love of his life, was holding a loaded gun to his head and Alex couldn’t feel anything. “Say it.”_

_Alex forced back the sob that tried to break free. He had no right to cry. He deserved this, every second of it, and it wasn’t like John was making him lie. “I’m worthless.”_

_The gun brushed across Alex’s trembling lips and he had to fight every bone in his body that screamed for him to move, to run and run and run and never look back. “Good boy,” John practically purred the words and Alex shuddered. John hadn’t praised him in so long. He’d do anything to make John say those words again._

A loud thud snapped Alex out of the flashback, the suddenness of it making him dizzy. It reminded him of a gunshot, the very one he’d heard that night, the burn against his skin as the gun recoiled away from him, enough to miss his skull but only slightly, slight enough that-

_-that Alex felt a small cut opening against his cheek, from where the bullet had grazed him. He stood there, shaking and barely able to stand, as the bullet went on to imbed itself in the far wall. He couldn’t stop the tears then even if he wanted to as he heard John throw the gun to the floor with a noise of disgust._

_“Consider yourself lucky, babe,” The term of endearment was spat out, as if it were a vile curse, “because next time I won’t be so generous.” Alex could only watch helplessly as John went out the door, slamming it behind him. Alex sunk to his knees once the sound of John’s footsteps receded, shaking and crying and he couldn’t pull himself together. Not enough to reach for his phone, not enough to get off the floor, not enough to do anything. Worthless, just like John said. He was lucky John stayed with him. Lucky John cared enough to tell him how bad he was and try to fix him. Alex was just being selfish, like always._

_Eventually, Alex managed to pick himself up. He wasn’t sure how he would fix the wall, but he’d have to find a way. He had time, though. John normally left for a couple days when he got this angry. Alex went into the bathroom first to retrieve the first aid kit. He cleaned and bandaged the cut on his cheek, then put everything away and went to pick up the gun. However, when his hand was an inch away from it, he stopped. The gun was still loaded. It was loaded and John wasn’t here and Lafayette wasn’t here and Eliza wasn’t here. He could do it. End it right here and now and everyone could move on with their lives, replace him with someone much better and they could all be happier._

_Swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat, Alex picked up the gun with trembling hands. He could do it. It’d be so easy. A little pressure on the trigger and everything would be over. Alex slowly, carefully turned the barrel of the gun towards himself, letting its cool metal tip rest against his lips, like John had just hours before. He could do it. John had been ready to, had been so close to firing at his head. To not flicking away at the last moment. If John could do it, Alex could, too. He could do this one thing for John, he could stop being selfish long enough for this. Alex’s finger tensed against the trigger and-_

_A shout, a hand smacking the gun away and Alex was screaming. Screaming, because he couldn’t even do this right. Because John hated him so much already and he only would more when he came home to find Alex even more broken than before. Hands were on his face, a thumb gently rubbing against the bandage on his cheek, but Alex didn’t register it. He didn’t even register who was with him. His throat was burning, but Alex couldn’t stop, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe-_

A hand on his cheek, far too similar to how he’d been held back then, snapped Alex back to reality and he screamed, launching himself away from the contact. The bottle he’d had hit the ground with a loud clunk as he scrambled to a corner, the most confined he could get without trying to run past the person to the closet. He curled up there, hands tearing at his hair as he sobbed and screamed and cried. He could feel the scar from the bullet against the bottom of his hand, still there with the rest of his scars. They never went away, they never would go away, John wasn’t ever going to go away.

He thought he felt hands gently holding his wrists, trying to tug them away from their vicious assault on his hair, but he was too focused on the fact that he couldn’t fucking breathe to be sure. Finally, the hands on his wrists dropped and Alex started sobbing harder because he didn’t know who they were but they were gone had left just like everyone else and now he was well and truly alone.

His sobs cut off with a choked sound when the hands returned as arms, wrapping around him softly, as if he were actually important, as if he actually meant anything, and for a moment there was silence. Then Alex heard a voice, soft and reassuring and familiar and breaking him apart perfectly.

“It’s okay, darlin’, you’re okay, just breathe, it’s alright. I’ve got you, you’re okay.” Alex slumped forward, resting his head against Thomas’ chest. Thomas was safe. Thomas was safe and his arms felt like home but Alex knew he was lying. He was still murmuring reassurances, telling him to breathe and that he was safe and that everything would be alright and it almost made Alex cry harder because he knew Thomas was lying. He’d been trying to get better for a year now and he hadn’t yet and Thomas would get mad eventually, just like John did, and he’d try to fix Alex just like John did or he’d just leave like everyone always did.

A hand gently grabbed his chin, forcing his own violet blue eyes to meet Thomas’ russet brown. Alex was still gasping, panting as he tried to regain control of his breathing and he could barely focus, but he forced himself to hold Thomas’ gaze. He knew that if he saw hatred in his boyfriend’s eyes, he’d deserve it. But he didn’t see hatred. He saw concern, fear, worry, anxiety, all for him, and it was almost worse. Alex wished Thomas would just hate him already, start screaming and hitting and marking him like John did because the longer this went on, the more comfortable Alex got around Thomas, the more painful it would be when Thomas inevitably left.

Alex knew all this, yet he couldn’t help but soak in the comfort his boyfriend was providing. Thomas was here now, and Alex wanted to be stupid and selfish just for a little longer. He didn’t want to let this go. Eventually, there in Thomas’ arms, he managed to calm down, enough to be able to breathe properly and his sobs had ceased. He brought up a shaking hand to press against the scar on his cheek as Thomas pulled back, placing his hands on the smaller man’s shoulders.

“Alex, darlin’...what happened?” Thomas’ voice was quiet and gentle yet Alex still flinched. He took a shuddering breath.

“I...I had a flashback. I’m so-sorry, I didn’t mean to, I swear, please don’t be mad, ple-” A hand cupping his cheek made him snap his mouth shut with a quiet click. He had no right to beg forgiveness and Thomas had no reason to give it to him. Alex knew that, and judging by the look Thomas was giving the bottle Alex had dropped, Thomas wasn’t about to offer it. “I-”

“Alex, honey…you know I wish you’d come to me before relapsing, and you’ve been doing so well. What happened?” Alex thought of the feeling of the cool barrel of the gun pressed to his lips, thought of the feeling of the bullet ripping across his cheek, death so close it felt like a memory, and knew Thomas really would hate him for this one. Alex had been weak, cowardly and pathetic, even more so than he was now and he didn’t want Thomas to know. If John had found out he would’ve finished what he’d started, shoot Alex and finally be rid of him. But, but Thomas wasn’t John, Thomas was so good he would understand, right? Biting his lip, Alex began speaking.

“Um, J-Jack, when he got angry… _really_ angry at me, he’d…he had this gun,” Alex heard Thomas’ breath catch and, knowing what he was thinking, quickly began speaking before his boyfriend could. “He didn’t ever sh-shoot me! Or, until that last time he never did, b-but it just grazed me it wasn’t that big a deal I mean it left this scar but I was fine-!” Alex was cut off by Thomas gently shushing him, running a hand through his hair.

“Alex, you don’t have to justify him. None of what he did was okay, remember? There’s no justification for what he did to you.” Alex had heard the words before, Thomas had said them before, so he nodded and tried to believe them.

“A-anyway…after one of those times, with the g-gun. Jack left and I…I tried t-to…” Alex took a deep breath, shaking so hard he could barely talk, and forced himself to just get the words out. “I tried to shoot myself.”

The silence after Alex spoke made him wish he’d never opened his mouth to begin with. He’d really done it this time, pushed Thomas too far and the man was just trying to come up with a way to let Alex down easy because that’s just how Thomas was and God Alex would miss him. Thomas wrapping his arms around him startled him, and Alex wished Thomas would just leave instead of dragging it out and making it hurt more. “Baby…” Thomas’ voice was watery and Alex hated himself for making Thomas sound like that. “I’m so sorry you went through that. And I’m sorry you didn’t think you could talk to me about it.”

Alex stiffened and immediately began talking. “N-no, it wasn’t your fault, it, it was me, I’m pathetic a-and I didn’t want you to hate me, I’m so-sorry-” Thomas shushed him gently, pulled him closer and Alex felt safe in his boyfriend’s arms despite himself.

“It’s okay, darlin’, I’m not mad at you for this. You know I’ll never be mad at you for things like that. I wish you would’ve told me, but I’m not mad.” Alex nodded, trying to accept the words and believe Thomas. “C’mon baby, how about we go watch some Disney movies?” Alex let out a sound that was almost a laugh, almost a sob, because of course Thomas’ solution to his pathetic breakdown would be Disney movies. Still, he nodded and curled into Thomas’ chest as the man stood with Alex in his arms. Thomas walked them out of the bedroom and Alex looked over his shoulder at the messy bed and the dropped bottle of whiskey. Thomas’ grip on him tightened. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?” Alex nodded, too exhausted to argue, and curled into his boyfriend’s chest.

They could deal with this later. Thomas just wanted to reassure himself that his boyfriend was okay and Alex wanted to make himself okay. Alex was passed out before the two even made it downstairs.


End file.
